


Angst, Angst, And More Angst

by fandomcrazychick, tinderwrites



Series: Pirateverse Ficlets [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Arguing, Break Up, Canon Non-Binary Character, Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Depression, Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Consent, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Killing, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Non-Canonical Character Death, Other, Polyamorous Pack, River is everyone's parent, Transphobia, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vampire Turning, Wakes & Funerals, Writers are not fluent in any language here other than english, belittling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:53:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25355800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomcrazychick/pseuds/fandomcrazychick, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinderwrites/pseuds/tinderwrites
Summary: Angsty fanfiction inspired by original characters from our roleplays. There's very few lights at the end of these tunnels.
Relationships: Alexa Montez/Laurent Moreau, Chris de la Rosa/Inari Pollari, Chris de la Rosa/Inari Pollari/River Perez/Sebastian Tuisku, Kaisa Perez-Kijek/Pietro Lucciano-Santis, River Perez/Sebastian Tuisku, Sebastian Tuisku/Mikael Laukkanen
Series: Pirateverse Ficlets [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534466
Kudos: 2





	1. Character Death

Chris stepped up to the podium, eyes red rimmed from tears already fallen, clutching the pamphlet in his hand. He cleared his throat, and looked out across the gathering in front of him. "Thank you, everyone, for coming today. It means a lot that you all came to say goodbye to them." He cast a glance behind him at the casket. It was closed, but his heart still clenched painfully, and it took every drop of willpower for him not to let it overwhelm him.

He had to do this.

He turned back forwards again, and swallowed. "River was...special. They've always been special, from the moment I met them. I asked them to sit with me at lunch, and without even hesitating, they offered me their cookie." A small smile played on his lips at the memory. "That's River, in a nutshell. Always making you smile, and making you feel good, without even considering themself. It's so rare to find such a pure soul, but I did when I found my best friend for life."

His eyes travelled across the front row. The only other people in the room who were as heartbroken and devastated as Chris was - River's family. Sebastian, who looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, held Isabela to his chest, comforting the girl who was already crying again. Beside him, Kaisa's hand rested on her swollen belly, while the other gripped her brother's hand. They'd all lost a friend, a family member, a loved one, and everyone was hurting.

Chris blinked back fresh tears, and forced himself to continue. "One special memory I have of them, is from their wedding day." He glanced at Sebastian. "The entire time, they had been stressing themself out over everything. Everything had to be perfect, from the flowers to the seating charts. Total bridezilla." A light chuckle crossed the room at that, accompanied by sniffling. "At one point, I was tempted to drug them just to get them to rest for a few hours. That's not to say their work didn't pay off, it was a beautiful ceremony. The best part of it though, was seeing River's face when they saw the surprise Sebastian had brought for them."

The memories flooded his brain as he spoke, bringing back all the emotion felt that day. "He had brought their mother, and I swear, the smile on their face could have lit up the entirety of California. Nothing can compare to seeing that smile on their face." A lump rose up in his throat, and even after swallowing, it refused to shift. "Seeing River smile was always something special, just like th-them-" He couldn't even finish the sentence, before breaking down into wrenching sobs that wracked his whole body. Everything around him blurred out, except for that goddamned memorial photo on the front of the pamphlet in his hands.

River was gone, and he couldn't bear to face a world where they weren't just a phone call away.

Distantly, he heard his wife's voice, and felt a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back, but everything else was filtered through the throbbing sound of blood pumping in his ears, and the intense grief crippling him.

Another hand joined the first one, only to gently guide him off the small stage. Chris complied, but only because he was too overwhelmed to even care. No matter where he went, it changed nothing. River should have lived to see their second grandchild born, should have lived to see the twins get married, should have lived longer than they had.

Anger joined the grief, burning him from the inside out. How dare anyone take River from them so soon? They had been the purest soul in the world, too good for anyone, but did that mean they deserved to go so soon? “I hate this…” He cried, not caring who listened. It’s not like anyone could do anything about it.

“I hate it too.”

Sebastian’s soft voice filtered through the pounding, striking home in Chris’ heart. It was only then that he registered that they were in the hallway outside, sitting in two horribly cheap, plastic chairs.

“Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, and I’ll feel so angry that they’re gone.” The pain in his voice was so evident, even through Chris’ own grief. “For a brief moment, I’ll feel vitun furious at them for leaving me, angry at the universe for ripping them away from me.” He slumped into the seat. “Vittu, I sound like River, talking about fate and the universe.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

Hiccuping sobs shook Chris’ body, tears streaming down his face even as he made an attempt to get a grip on his emotions. “I-I saw a stray c-c-cat the other day on my way home from the store, and without even thinking about it, I called R-River’s phone. It wasn’t until I heard their voicemail greeting, that I realised what I was doing, and I nearly burst into tears on the street.” He hoarsely said, roughly carding his fingers through his greying hair. “How the fuck are we meant to handle this?”

“You’re asking the wrong person.” Sebastian shook his head. “If it wasn’t for Kaisa and the twins staying with me, I wouldn’t get out of bed. Everything feels so much darker now they’re not here, and I don’t know how to make it through each day.”

“What about your therapist?”

He chuckled humorlessly. “River was always the one pushing me to make appointments, and to go to them. They knew how to take care of me in a way I can’t even do myself.”

Chris nodded. “Riv took care of everyone they met.” His hands clenched around the memorial pamphlet he still held, crumpling it in his grip. “And now they’re gone.” Those words sounded hollow, even to his ears.

“Imagine what River would say if they could see you both right now.”

Chris looked up, meeting his wife’s soft and worried gaze. “If they were here right now, they’d be giving us both a kick up the ass, and giving us the best pep talk ever.” He dryly replied, toying with a loose strand off his suit jacket sleeve.

“Vittu, they’d be telling me that I’m going to be fine without them.” Sebastian muttered, rubbing at his own eyes. “I’m not.”

“None of us are okay right now.” Inari gently told him. “But you’ve both got your kids in there, and the rest of the family who are all mourning as well, and they need you.” She crossed the hallway and dropped to her knees in front of Chris, as she clasped his hands in hers. “Kulta, are you okay to go back in?” She softly asked, gazing at him.

“I don’t know.” Chris shook his head, squeezing her hands gently. “I know I have to, but right now, I can’t bear to think about burying my best friend.”

“You’re burying your best friend. I’m burying my partner.” Sebastian spoke harshly, quickly rising to his feet.

“And the kids are having to bury their parent. We’re all mourning here.” Chris shot back, his tone sharpening at the end.

“Fuck you.” Sebastian bit out.

“You have no idea how much I’m hurting right now.” The Spaniard stood up as well, wrenching his hands out of Inari’s grasp, and glared at Sebastian with red-rimmed eyes. “I’ve known River since we were seven, longer than you have, so don’t even talk about mierda you don’t understand.”

“Do you want to go? Because I will put you in the ground as well if you don’t shut the fu-”

“Stop it! Just stop it!”

Both men turned to the doorway, where Kaisa stood, one hand supporting her bump, with unbridled fury on her face.

“This is Papi’s funeral, for fuck’s sake, and you two are yelling at each other and fighting in the hallway like a couple of children.” She glared at the two of them, before turning her gaze onto Sebastian. “You think Papi would have wanted this? You think they would have wanted you to be angry at everyone? If you think that, you’re basically spitting on everything they stood for.” Kaisa bit out, an array of emotions flurrying across her face. “I’m going back in there, to say my goodbyes with my family, the way Papi would have wanted it. If you can’t do that, then both of you can fuck off, because I don’t want them to see you acting like this.” Angry tears came to her eyes, quickly hidden when she turned into Pietro’s chest. He led her back into the room, closely followed by Inari, who gave them both a final look of disappointment.

Chris turned to Sebastian, an apology leaping to his lips, only for it to fall flat when all he saw was the other man’s back as he walked away.

Just like that, Chris was all alone, and he had never wanted his best friend more in that moment.


	2. Character Death Follow Up

It was quiet in the house.

  
The twins had gone to bed. For the first time in weeks, Isabela had gone to sleep in her own bed. So much as Sebastian missed having the company in the living room, he hated going to hide in the bedroom to pretend that he had gotten any sleep. He had new pills from a visit to the doctor that Inari had dragged him to, but he never bothered to take them. He didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t want to be in the house, but he couldn’t force the twins to move. Not so soon after everything that had happened.

  
It was fucking quiet in the house.

  
It was always quiet. It never mattered how loud he made the TV or what kind of music he played or who came over during the day. There was always someone here to take the twins’ place as soon as they went to school. It never mattered. Alone or surrounded by people, everything he remained trapped by a muddy haze. What little energy he had he gave to the kids to help them to heal. They were too young for this to destroy them; too young to be mourning a parent.

  
It was so motherfucking quiet in the house.

  
He dropped the pencil in his hand. It had become a nightly ritual to sit at his desk and see if he could draw anything. What few drawings he managed were soulless copies of old designs, all as muddled as the fog he drifted in. Nothing ever changed. He hadn’t cried once during these long months. It happened too quickly. In seconds he had to worry about the kids, their friends, preparations for the funeral, the house, the bills, their business, their fucking YouTube channel...

  
It just happened; one call and done. He barely remembered it. One minute he had looked for a clean pair of jeans and then he sat there, on the edge of the bed, listening to a woman tell him about an accident and saying that she was sorry but his partner was gone. Gone. Not injured or on the way to the ER, just gone. They needed him to come in and confirm their identity because their ID had been lost during the crash. He said something to make her hang up and then he sat there for what might have been a minute or hours. It took Inari calling him to snap him out of it. She asked where he was and he told her that he had to go to the hospital. It had to be the least taciful way of sharing that news, but he couldn’t think in that moment anymore than he could breathe.

  
It was a blur after and a blur still. Nothing felt real. He remembered the funeral, snapping at Chris in the lobby of the church, finally feeling something. But then Kaisa came out and he had to put it away again. He had to help his family.

  
He turned the TV off. It was nothing more than a waste of electricity. If he stayed out here too long, the twins might wake up and worry. He hated sitting in the bedroom, but no one bothered him in there. No one wanted to go in it. Maybe they wanted to respect what little space he had left for them, or maybe they all balked at going near a place so full of memories. As if any of them knew what it was like to be surrounded by dead memories.

  
The bed remained unmade, the whole room a snapshot from that morning. He couldn’t clean it. Clothes remained on the floor, some of their drawers open to find the outfit Chris had asked him to bring for the funeral. He never put any of it away.  
He sat down on the edge of the bed.

  
He had been here so many times; spent nights alone in the dark unmoving from this designated spot in his personal museum. What few hours he ever got were spent on the couch. He couldn’t sleep in here. Nothing was his to touch. Not anymore. Another reason not to move.

  
It was supposed to get better. Other people had learned how to heal, to find the new normal. No one had forgotten them and plenty of people continued to mourn in their own way, but they had found the will to return to their lives. His normal was the unending fog. He paid attention to the kids, to what they needed, but they had caught on to his charade. They had stopped believing his masquerade and he had no energy left to make it more convincing. He was present and helping and loving with everything he has left. But what he had left shrank every day.

  
He glanced over his shoulder at their side of the bed. It remained just how it had been that morning. His hand stretched out as it had a thousand times, hesitating before he touched the fabric there. Once he moved something, it would never be the way it was again. They would never come back to fix it. He touched their pillow, brushed his fingers across the case, and picked it up. It almost seemed like too much to hope for, but he brought it to his chest all the same and inhaled.

  
Though faint, the scent remained. His chest caved in as he indulged in that lingering piece he had of them, his arms wrapping around it. He laid down on his side, snuggling the pillow close as humanly possible. It hurt and yet it felt like something. Feeling anything was rare.

  
He laid there wrapped up in exquisite agony, the pain of longing and loss welcome if only so that he could feel something. His mind shut off as each inhale dragged up more feelings. He knew this scent would fade soon just like everything else. Some days he had to pull up on of their old videos just to remember what their voice sounded like. It hadn’t been a year yet. He couldn’t remember the last time a hug felt good. Not even when he hugged the kids. They thought it was for him, but he did it for them. He hadn’t wanted to touch anyone since he last touched their cold skin. Every new touch brought him closer to forgetting what they felt like. Did he remember what it felt like to kiss them? He never tried to remember, too afraid of losing another piece of them that he might never get back.

  
More and more of them disappeared every day, and it made the physical all the more and less important. Unchanging and yet not them. Nothing in his life felt like it mattered anymore, but he never said so. He couldn’t let his kids knows how fucking empty he felt inside.

  
It was hardest in the unneeded hours of the day.

  
He never noticed falling asleep, yet he became aware in that moment. He had to be asleep because he became aware of another presence without ever moving. He untucked himself from the position he had curled into, expecting to see one of the twins frowning at him from the door, but saw nothing. Not even a door. It was just the room and the bed. He sat up and looked around, pausing when he saw someone sitting on the other side of the bed. Their skin looked perfect with only their favorite shade of lipstick on their face and their long braids falling all around them, nothing like the gruesome image burned into his mind from the morgue. They looked better than him, all gaunt and sleep-deprived from these long months. It was hard to eat when everything tasted bland. Life lit those eyes that he had stared into so many times; life and sadness.

  
And for a moment, he dared to speak their name out loud. “River?”

  
His voice was a wreck, either from the silence or the drinking. Which had stopped mattering to him. River was there. Alive. Or not because this couldn’t be real. He buried them. His longing for them soured as every emotion did these days. He turned away from them.

  
He heard them--what he thought was them—say, ”Hi.”

  
“Hi? That’s it? Hi?”

  
A heavy pause filled the saturated air. “I’m sorry.”

  
“You fucking should be.”

  
“I never meant to—”

  
“Don’t,” he grumbled as he leaned forward on his knees, “Don’t start with that shit. I don’t want to hear it.”

  
“Bas, I’m so sorry.”

  
“And what good is that now? It doesn’t change anything. You’re gone. Dead.” His breath hitched. “You fucking abandoned me here.”

  
They moved closer. He never looked to see; he just knew. “You know I’d never do that to you. Not on purpose. The truck ran through the stoplight. I never saw it coming.”

  
“You never had to go out that morning. You could have stayed home,” he retorted, his throat constricting painfully.

  
“But we fought and I left.” Fuck, it had been such a stupid argument. “I wanted to clear my head.”

  
“And look where that got you. Put you in the fucking ground.”

  
Another hesitation as though they had come with a mission in mind that had just gained a new complication. “You have to move on, Bas.”

  
“Don’t tell me what I have to do!” He glared at them where they sat beside him. “Don’t tell me to keep going or that it gets easier or that I owe it to our kids to keep going because I don’t give a flying fuck about any of that! You died. You left me behind to pick up the pieces and I’ve fucking tried. I’ve done everything I can for the kids, to help them mourn and carry on with their lives. I’ve given them everything I have left and it’s still not enough.” The agony rose up in his chest. “I can’t move on, Riv. I can’t pretend that I know how to keep going without you. I’m barely into my fifties. How the fuck am I supposed to live another lifetime without you? Why do you get to go first while I have to take care of everything you left behind? I can’t.”

  
They reached out. “Yes, you can.”

  
“No. I won’t.” He slapped their hand away. “Every day I lose a little more of you. Everyone talks about how hard it is to bury someone, but they never say what it’s like to keep losing them day by day. You know what that feels like? It’s fucking painful. Like I’m watching you die again every day and people want me to be happy about it. I can’t...I can’t…”

  
Tears started falling, heavy and real on his cheeks as what little he had left to say faded. He crumpled forward, sobbing loudly as the grief came rushing out. River had always had that magic to them that cut through his defense and drew out his feelings. Even now in this unreal place they only had to be by his side to strip away everything from him. The fog, his self-imposed calm, even the unchanging surroundings he cocooned himself in. Nothing remained but himself and their memory.

  
Something touched his shoulder. He looked up and saw their eyes shimmering, arms extending toward him. His anger dissipated and he leapt toward them.

  
“Don’t let me wake up,” he begged them as he buried his face in their chest. “Please, Riv, let me stay here. Don’t make me leave. I don’t want to wake up without you there. I can’t go through anymore of this. I can’t even remember what it felt like to hold you. Please, let me stay.”

  
They shushed him gently, their presence surrounding him. “We’ve got time, _mi corazon_. All the time in the world...”

  
——

  
Inari tugged the edge of the blanket over her best friend, tucking it around him. Tears glistened on his cheeks, painting trails down to the beard he had from weeks of not shaving. “Get some sleep, Seb.” She took a tissue from the nightstand and patted his cheek gently. “I’ll look after the twins today.”


	3. Supernatural: Fresh Bite

First, he knew the thirst: an intense, all-consuming need that dragged him out of the depths in which he slept. 

Next came his pounding head and a full body ache as though someone had thrown him from a roof onto the cobblestones below. He lived and breathed, yet every sensation resonated across his skin and into his bones like a unique tormentor. The agony roused his mind, and yet the thirst was what forced his eyes open. 

It was too bright for a dark room. Only a small light appeared somewhere in the far left of the room and yet he saw the jumbled images bleeding into one another as though the noon sun stood above him. Clear and distorted and impossible. 

Then came the voice from a distant nightmare. “You’re awake.” 

A shadow moved and then that same elegant stranger whom he had met in the tavern the night before appeared above him. Golden blonde hair perfectly groomed to compliment the sharp angles of his face and draw you into his pale grey eyes that glimmered with something that made the hairs on his arms stand on end. He caressed Sebastian’s cheek as someone did with their favourite teacup, and though Sebastian wanted to fend off the offending hand his fingers did little more than twitch at his side. The man found him in a bar looking to blow off steam away from his crew. He never meant for this to last more than an hour, a quick tumble before he returned to the ship. Memories of what happened were hazy like his current reality, but enough remained to tell him something had gone wrong. He tried to speak, but only a hoarse gasp escaped him. 

The man shushed him--what the fuck was his name?--and carded manicured fingers through his hair. “Don’t strain yourself, captain. You had a busy night. I should apologise for that. I usually have better control over myself, but you tasted too good to stop.” He leaned down and planted a kiss on Sebastian’s neck, sending pleasure and disgust crashing through him on two opposing waves. “When I realised my mistake, I couldn’t let you go. You’re too beautiful to die so young. I had to preserve you for posterity.”  
Another wheeze escaped Sebastian. “What...did you...do to me?” 

A chuckle echoed in the empty air. “There’s that spirit. It’s really a shame those lovely scratches you tried to give me last night have already healed. They were commemorative while they lasted.” He continued to pet him and, fuck, Sebastian wanted to rip that hand off his arm. “I gave you a gift. The pain you feel now is temporary, nothing a good feast can’t solve. I would feed you myself but--”

The door opened before the man could finish and what sounded like a woman trotted into the room. More haze obscured his sight when he tried to look at her, darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision. The man got up and chatted with her, but without the immediate contact Sebastian fell back into that thirst, drowning in his own need. The asshole could give him a little water to stave off this agony. 

The weight returned beside him only now a girl with flowing brown hair looked down on him with a pitiful frown. “Pale as a ghost, he is.” Her voice grated like a shrieking gull. 

“All newborns are,” the man replied, “A little blood in him and he’ll be back on his feet.” 

Blood? He grit his teeth, too big for his mouth, in a snarl of disgust. Whatever sick game this freak wanted him to play, he refused to have any part of.

The man went on. “I drank too deeply before I turned him. It’s left him weaker than I thought it would.”

His stomach churned again. What the fuck was he talking about?

The woman made the sound that someone might when looking upon a sick puppy. “Poor thing. I can give him the drink he needs.” She drew a knife out of what seemed to be thin air and she slashed it across the palm. 

Sebastian knew the smell of blood. It was metallic and sweet in its own morbid way. In the heat of battle, it spurred him on to cut faster and finish off a foe. In the quiet times, it foretold death and decay. As the smell hit him lying in that bed, he lost all sense of himself and he craved it more than he had ever craved any food in his life. He wanted that blood. Needed it. Nothing else mattered except his broken body that refused to let him move closer to it. 

“Bring your hand closer to his mouth. I don’t want him to hurt himself.”

The scent came closer and closer until it hovered just above his lips. “Open your mouth, love.” His lips parted on their own accord. When the first trickle fell onto his tongue, the flavor exploded. It was finer than any wine that he had ever sampled in the thousands of ports he had been to, and richer than any meal he had taken in his twenty-five years of life. He licked the source and groaned, ignoring the sounds that the woman made as he did. More. Strength returned to his arms first and he used them to draw the hand down against his lips where he could suck more blood into his mouth. He wanted to quench his thirst, whatever that meant. 

A soft laugh came from somewhere faraway as the woman cooed, “He’s an eager one, isn't he?” 

Darker laughter followed from the man. “You have no idea.” 

The wound on her hand was too small like trying to suck wine from a crack in a bottle. There had to be more. He surged up from the bed. His vision was sharp yet clouded by the haze that narrowed his focus onto the woman’s neck. He pushed her down onto the bed and she laughed, seemingly unaware of his intentions as he dove down and bit her neck. Instinct led him to the jugular and rewarded him with a mouthful of hot blood. She writhed beneath him as though the pain was pleasure to her, rubbing his back and cooing nonsense that he ignored. “I should entertain newborns more often,” she groaned, “I only wish he did more touching.” 

Sebastian only cared about drinking down as much blood as he could. He took deep gulps now, the blood pouring like rum from an upturned bottle. It tasted so good. He had to have more. 

The laughter died away not long after. “I...I think that’s enough. I’m feeling lightheaded.” She tried to push against him, but the other man caught her hands and trapped them above her head. She looked at him with wide eyes. “Please. Tell him to stop.” 

Another dark chuckle escaped the man. “You can’t stop a blood-crazed vampire. I told you I drained him too well. His body needs to replenish and that means gorging himself on you. I would have to kill him if I wanted to stop him. His body is focused on his thirst and nothing else. He doesn’t even like women. You’re nothing more than food to him.” 

Another whimper followed, but it was weak. 

“It’s like falling asleep, love,” the man assured her as he kissed her forehead. “I couldn’t leave you alive knowing my secret. I let you have one more moment of passion before the end. You’re welcome.” 

Sebastian had killed many people in his time at sea, but no kill had ever felt so intimate. Or sickening. He had never felt someone go cold beneath him or grow still as more and more of her blood vanished from her veins. It happened as the haze cleared from his mind and her blood stopped pouring. When he came to, she was gone.

He sat back on his heels with blood smeared on his lips and cheeks, fangs visible as he gasped for air that his body might not have needed any longer. He’d murdered a woman; fed on her. How could he...why would he…? Fuck.

A sound of complaint drew his gaze to the side. “Not even a drop left for me? So selfish, just like all children.” The man sat there poised with a smirk on his lips. He had the nerve to look smug when a woman had just died. “You got so messy. Why don’t I clean that up for you?” he chuckled as he leaned in, flashing his own fangs. 

Outrage awoke in him then and he lunged at the beast. This bastard--who had used him to murder a woman because she knew too much--deserved to die just as painfully. 

The man countered effortlessly and the two fell to the floor, wrestling for a killing hold. Despite the many brawls and sword duels he had conquered, the older vampire quickly proved what untold years of life and finely honed reflexes could do. He caught Sebastian’s hands and flipped him onto his stomach. All of the man’s weight pressed down on him as he drove an elbow into his back and sat on his legs. Sebastian hissed and tried wiggling loose, but the man remained fixed. Another laugh filled the air, the sound imprinting itself in Sebastian’s memory. “Fighting me is useless, love. You’ve barely begun to live your new life. You could never hope to kill your sire as you are. Your new body is a mystery to you, but I know everything. Regardless of what you think or how you feel, we’re going to be together for a long time.” He leaned down closer and breathed into his ear. “If you’re good and do as you’re told, I might even give you a reward.” 

“Go to hell,” Sebastian snapped, provoking another laugh from the man.

Then a new scent hit the air, familiar and tantalizing, almost enough to drag him back into that blood-craze he had only just escaped from. A finger appeared by his lips with a drop of blood on the tip and Sebastian licked it without a moment of hesitation. Fucking hell. The woman’s blood had taught him the taste he needed for survival, but this was another kind of nirvana. It tasted otherworldly and eerily familiar like something out of a dream. Worse still, that tiny taste had him craving more like the opioids some became addicted to in the larger ports. He tried to lean forward and bite down on the hand, but it withdrew before he had the chance. 

“Not so fast. Rewards like that aren’t so easily earned.” He licked some of the blood from Sebastian’s cheek. “Remember that taste because no blood will ever surpass it. That blood is only given to my loyal children and only continues to be so long as I live. Something to keep in mind.” 

The man turned Sebastian over, keeping his arms pinned above his head. The defiant look that he saw there widened his grin. “Oh, you’ll be a fun one to break. I can’t wait to hear you scream my name.” He leaned in and licked away more of the blood until only his lips remained bloodied. “Say my name, captain.” 

Pure hatred filled Sebastian as he glared up at the bastard. “I don’t know it,” he hissed. 

“Is your memory foggy, sweet thing? Then I’ll remind you.” He whispered it into his ear. “Say my name.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Later, love,” the man snickered before all the humor drained from his face. “Say my name, Sebastian.”

The grip on his wrists tightened until Sebastian knew the bones were on the verge of breaking. He glared at the man, this sadist, until it became clear who the first victor in this twisted little game would be. 

“Mikael.”

\--

“Sebastian?”

He blinked back to the present from centuries away to see the concerned faces of his latest house-guest and Alexa staring at him. She held a steaming cup of tea while Laurent held a travel thermos full of blood--B negative. It was tainted by the plastic that Alexa had transported it in. “What were you saying?”

“I asked if you knew your sire. Do you keep in touch with them?” 

A heavy pause filled the air before Sebastian said, “No.” He walked out of the kitchen with his coffee, one of the few human drinks he had an attachment to after all these years. Very few wounds survived centuries of time, but that one had. He knew it would never close over just as the scar on his neck had never faded.


	4. Fighting/Arguing

Sebastian sat in his car staring up at the window of the apartment where he had spent most of the last year. The lights were on without the flicker of a TV, a common sight when Mikael was alone. He always complained that there was nothing worth watching on any of the thousands of channels in his cable bundle, and online streaming had done nothing to change his mind. Nights when Sebastian stayed in his own apartment or came back late, Mikael would sit in his leather recliner and read everything from modern fiction to business trade secrets. 

Maybe now he was sitting in that chair with a crisp copy of _Sizing People Up_ that he had talked about buying for weeks with a bottle of cognac open next to him, that same brand he said he hated because his father always gave him a bottle at Christmas. Had he bothered to change out of his suit or was he sitting there with his jacket and tie tossed on the couch nearby with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows? He forgot to do basic things when he was upset. And Sebastian knew he was upset. 

Fuck. 

He slumped back in his seat, wondering if tonight was a mistake. Arguably, driving had been. It had taken a few glasses of lakka--his last bottle to work up the courage to come here tonight.

It was all Sanna’s fault. When she came for her first visit in a fucking year, he decided to break one of the unspoken rules and introduce her to Mikael. Both of them were so important to Sebastian, he had thought it would be a natural next step. But Sanna had to fuck it up by interrogating Mikael. Basic questions like what he did for a living he had expected. Hell, for the first ten minutes, he had actual hope that the conversation might go well, but she had to antagonize Mikael after that going on and on about his family no matter how many hints he gave her to drop it. And she had the gall to pull Sebastian aside after Mikael left and tell him to break things off like she could know Mikael after meeting him for half an hour. Their relationship had been rocky now and then, but it was nothing he couldn’t fix. He fucking loved Mikael, and Mikael loved him despite his numerous issues. His cousin, one of his best friends in this world, should have known how important that meeting was to him. 

He had never abandoned Sanna in the middle of a visit before. That night he stormed out of the apartment and never came back until her plane had taken off. Her fuckery bled into his next date with Mikael and the one after that and the one after that. Minor tiffs by their standards, but they had yet to talk about what happened. He had tried texting Mikael tonight to set up a meeting, but Mikael ignored him. So he decided to break another rule to save his relationship. 

Sanna put stupid ideas in his head. 

No. It hadn’t been just her meddling. Nothing had been the same since Kaitlyn came around. One of Mikael’s ex-girlfriends who had been invited back to the group by a mutual friend against Mikael’s wishes. She gave some bullshit excuse about feeling sorry for her always being on her own in their office. Kaitlyn had no understanding of boundaries. Nights when they all went out drinking--always with Mikael’s friends--she hung off Mikael like a leech. When Sebastian tried to make something of it, Mikael got upset with him. The vapid bitch had invited herself along to damn near every other outing since. Anyone who had ever described him as needy had never met her. Only when they stayed in the apartment did he get any alone time with Mikael, but he had fucked that up as well.

He sighed and forced himself to get out of the car. 

Mikael always wanted to go out. Clubs and crowds helped him to release all that stress he built up during the work week. Sebastian had never had an issue keeping up with him before, but lethargy and irritation had plagued him for weeks now. For no goddamn reason. It took him back to his junior year of high school when he slipped into a similar funk. Months of grey and a few missing bottles from his father’s liquor cabinet. Sebastian assumed he had outgrown the issue, but lately going to work sapped what energy he could muster up which meant he had next to none left whenever he came back to Mikael. Doing the bare minimum made for an unhappy boyfriend. Sebastian had no excuses for him. Complaining about something fabricated in his mind would only annoy Mikael. 

It had been the source of most of their recent arguments. His laziness and Kaitlyn and now Sanna. Fuck, he had a lot to apologise for. 

He typed in the code at the door and started up the stairs. If only he had thought to stop for a gift. Maybe a bottle of that white wine Mikael liked to have with dinner after a long work day. Something they could share after he apologised. If Mikael accepted his apology. 

Did he deserve to be forgiven? He was a shitty boyfriend and a shittier person. Mikael always joked that he had taken pity on Sebastian, but hadn’t he? No one else would put up with his level of bullshit. Not even Shep had put up with it for more than a month in the summer. Shep always said that choice had nothing to do with him, but no other man had been waiting for Shep after they broke up. If Sebastian’s shitty personality hadn’t driven him away, he failed to think what else could have done it. He was that same whiny bitch with a temper that had gotten him dumped more times than he had bothered to count. No wonder no one had bothered asking him for a second date before Mikael. 

Mikael had the patience of a saint. 

Sebastian reached the door, yet hesitated when he raised his hand to knock. That sound; was it…? No. He was being paranoid again. He knocked and the sound stopped. Because even Mikael talked to himself on occasion. Or laughed at jokes in his books. Sebastian had caught him doing it once or twice before. He would start with his apology and come up with another plan if that failed. Mikael would be pissed he hadn’t called, but maybe begging for forgiveness could cover that transgression as well. 

The door opened, but only a crack. 

Mikael looked like a different kind of mess with that lingering smile on his face. It vanished when he saw who was standing there. His hair was a mess, a familiar kind of mess that had nothing to do with work. He had a robe on, open at the chest to show off that lean form he boasted. The rest of him was hidden behind the door. The ease drained from his expression and morphed into something colder and guarded. “What the fuck are you doing here? Did I say anything about wanting to see you tonight?” 

That tone did nothing to quiet the alarms screaming in his head. “I...came to apologise.” Fuck, that sounded so insincere, but his thoughts had scattered to the winds. “Can I come in?” 

“No, you can’t.” Mikael leaned on the door frame, impatience etched into his features. “I’m in no mood to throw you out of my apartment when you inevitably lose your temper.” God, that reprimand stung. “You came over without saying a goddamn thing after you insulted and belittled me because you bought into the rumors that harpy planted in your mind. Give me one goddamn reason I shouldn’t close this door and delete your number from my phone.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And make it quick. I have things to do.” 

“Like what?” Sebastian tried to keep his voice level. “You said you finished your big project at work last week and you’re not dressed to go out with family.” 

“Don’t take that tone with me. You’re already in the doghouse for the day. Keep this up and I’ll let you stay there for some weeks.” He narrowed his gaze. “I’m in the middle of watching a documentary if you have to police my movements. And I’m not in the mood for dealing with your attitude or your drunkenness. I could smell your breath from down the hall.” His nose crinkled. “I shouldn’t have to explain myself when you’re the one invading my home. I told you this afternoon I expected you to make better choices in the future if you wanted this to continue, but clearly you--” 

“Wait! I’m sorry,” Sebastian rasped as he caught the closing door. “I don’t want to fight. I came to tell you I’m sorry about everything.” God, his eyes stung. “I’m sorry I tried to tell you who you could hangout with. I’m sorry my cousin acted like such a bitch. I’m sorry I never told you she was coming for coffee. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you like I should be these last few weeks. I’m sorry I’ve let you down.” He leaned on the other side of the door frame, looking into his eyes pleadingly. “Please, _rakas_ , I want to make it all up to you. Tonight if I can. Mikael, you’re more important to me than anyone in this world. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise. I can’t change the past, but I can change now. Let me prove to you that I mean it. Please. I love you too much to let this be the end.” 

A pin dropping would have shattered the sound barrier in that silence. Desperation overtook his expression as his heart hammered in his chest. Everything had to be okay. He would never forgive himself if this stupid spat ended the one good thing he had going in his miserable life. Mikael’s eyes bore into him as if they could take a sample of his bleeding soul to test for its sincerity. If only he could touch him... 

“You understand I never want to see that girl again?”

Shit. Sebastian sighed, “...yeah.”

“And you won’t listen to that nonsense about my nefarious schemes.”

“Never did.”

“And you’re not going to push me like that again. Any and all plans to meet with each other’s respective families or friends will be spoken about before proceeding.”

“Yeah.”

Finally, his lips curled into a smile. “Sloppy but I won’t ask for a miracle from you.” His features softened and Sebastian almost choked on the relief. “You’re staying in your apartment tonight, but tomorrow I could accept you coming for dinner if you bring an apology gift. Gelato and pasta from Osteria Mozza, and I might let you stay for the night.” The door swung open as he reached out to pull Sebastian into his embrace. Everything was okay. Fucking hell, it felt so good. He wrapped his arms around Mikael in return, not caring how weak he looked when he buried his face in his shoulder. Mikael had already seen every side of him. A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “What am I going to do with you?”

Sebastian pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ll be there in the nicest outfit I own.” 

“That’s not saying much,” Mikael chuckled, “But we can fix that another day. Tonight, one more kiss and off you go.” He pressed Sebastian against the doorway, their sweet kiss turning sensual as his tongue pressed between his lips to explore. Sebastian granted him that access immediately as his eyes slipped closed. These euphoric highs always followed their lowest moments. Maybe not everyone wanted to live that way, but he never wanted to let it go. 

“Mikael.” A soft, feminine voice interrupted. “Come back to bed.”

The world stopped with that kiss. Both of them turned to see a petite woman drowning in one of Mikael’s button-up shirts padding out of the bed, her shy smile a poor concealment for the gleam in her eyes. Sebastian looked back to Mikael and found that soft smile replaced by unspoken fury. The pieces came together slowly. 

Kaitlyn was in Mikael’s apartment. 

Mikael backed out of his arms, his mouth moving and yet saying nothing. The blood pounded in his ears too loudly for Sebastian to hear. 

She was wearing his shirt.

Sebastian blinked as though it would change what he saw. Twice. Thrice. Nothing. 

It was ten fucking PM. 

She never moved. Only stood there looking like a cat who had dropped a dead rat on his lap. 

Every logical function in his brain stopped dead. Nothing stood between him and the sickening realisation and the depth of what lay beyond it. Nothing except rage. He looked at Mikael, his incredulous shock morphing into fury. “You... _paskiainen_.” 

“Sebasti--”. 

“What the fuck is she doing here?!”. 

“Staying the night,” Kaitlyn chimed, a mock gasp following. “Did he not tell you?” 

“Shut up, _lutka_!” He had never spoken that way to a woman. Inari would have killed him for it. He wanted to kill himself. “What is this cunt doing here?!”. 

“Watch your mouth!” Mikael snapped. 

“It’s my mouth; I’ll say whatever I fucking feel like! How long have you been fucking her behind my back?! Weeks, months? How long?!” 

“Going behind your back? You have the gall to accuse me--” 

“Bullshit!”

“--After how you’ve treated me!” Mikael squared his shoulders. “Treating me like some plaything you’ve outgrown. Tossing me aside in favour of your inflated ego and artistic fancies when I refused to feed your vanity every second of the day!”

Sebastian’s eyes stung. “When?!” 

“She came to me as a friend!” 

“Like hell--!”

“She was here when you weren’t! She came when you ran off; too self-absorbed to care about what I had been going through! She came after that bitch called my family broken!” He hated his family. “And she took the time to understand my feelings like you never could!”

“She wants your dick! She doesn’t give a shit about you!” 

“Stop shouting,” Mikael hissed. 

“ _Vittu, huijaaminen paskiainen!_ You think you can justify sneaking around behind my back?!” His chest felt like it was caving in. “You let her in! You made that choice!” 

“I invited a friend to my home!” 

“You fucked a _tyhmä narttu_!” He advanced on Mikael. “Who else are you fucking?! Is she the only bitch or is there a whole harem?!”

“Calm down.” 

“Answer me!” 

“Calm down or I’m going to call the police!” 

He stopped dead, shocked from his haze by the words. Kaitlyn had scurried behind the kitchen island, her triumph replaced by fear. Mikael looked at him with disgust. Sebastian never noticed his fists clenched at his sides. 

“I’ve been suffering in silence for months.” 

Months? They hadn’t even hit a one year anniversary. 

“I’ve put up with your threats. Your ups and downs hoping that you would get better. I believed--I told everyone you were a better person than seemed to be! That it wasn’t abuse when you yelled at me.”

Abuse? Sebastian had never done anything to hurt Mikael. He would never hurt someone he loved. “Mikael…”

“I can’t take you anywhere. I can’t trust you to be alone with my friends without knowing you’ll scream at them or interrogate them about me. I can’t trust you with anything precious to me without knowing you’ll try to destroy it!”. 

Sebastian tried to remember saying anything to his friends. Their friends. “I--”

“I’ve put up with your bullying long enough. Never have I experienced this kind of violence in a relationship. You’ve never hit me, but I always knew it would only take one perceived failure. One misstep. I looked for comfort from a friend after my boyfriend--the person I should be able to trust--treated me like trash. And now I see how much more precious that friend is to me. How much more caring a woman is than a man. The mistake I made leaving her for someone like you.” He reached out and brought Kaitlyn under his arm where she hid herself. His expression had gone so cold. “We’re done. I’m done living in fear. Get out.” 

What? Tears built up behind Sebastian’s eyes. Was he...serious? Both Mikael and Kaitlyn looked at him like a monster dragged before a senate hearing. Mikael was breaking up with him. Sebastian tried to think of a response, but nothing came out. “Mikael, I--” 

“Get out before I call the police.” 

Nothing. He had pushed Mikael too far. Fucking hell, he had hurt his boyfriend and made him afraid. What the fuck was wrong with him? He nodded, too numb for words, and walked out the door. “I’m sor--” It slammed in his face. Others down the hall closed as well. Oh god. He had woken up the whole floor. Everyone had heard that. 

He stumbled down the hallway in a fog. 

What had he done? He had lost it when assholes tried to pick fights with him, but never like that. Never with someone he cared about. Had he been hurting Mikael without knowing? 

He couldn’t remember getting in the car or where he meant to go. His eyes were watering so badly. If he could only take everything back. How could he ever show his face in front of any of those people again? Peter, Sara, Choloe, Cole, Jameson: none of them would ever speak to him again.

A horn blared and he swerved back into his lane. He had to pull over.

Somehow he had come to the beach a good twenty minutes away from Mikael’s apartment. He shut the car off. And broke. Tears streamed down his face, his nose ran, and his shoulders shook. He had lost everything. The man he loved and the one chance he had not to die alone. He had hurt his boyfriend. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

He buried his face in his arms. Nothing could fix this. No gifts or pleas. Nothing would bring Mikael back and nothing should. He hurt him. No one should forgive him for that. 

Oh god, he had done the same to Sanna. One of his best friends and not even she was safe. His family wasn’t safe from him. His stomach churned. Like father like son.

He had fucked his life to pieces, and he had no one to blame but himself. 


	5. Nightmares (Seb/River - Childhood)

" Find a new best-friend."

River blinked at the sudden venom in Sebastian’s voice, tears coming to their eyes. “But…you’re my best friend. Bas, you’ve always been my best friend-“

“Not anymore.” He snapped, turning away to face the window. “I’m done dealing with your bullshit, River, and I can’t do it anymore. I don’t think you know just how exhausting it is to be around you all the time.”

Their stomach sank at the words. “I-I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you, but I’m so, so sorry.” Their voice cracked on the last, desperate word. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“That’s your problem, River. You can’t be alone.” Sebastian’s voice hardened even more, his body just as rigid. “You’re clingy as fuck, and with the wrong people. It’s pathetic, and ridiculous, and I’m so fucking sick to the back teeth of it.” He whirled around, and River shrank back at the coldness in their best friend’s face.

“Do you really want me to tell you exactly what’s wrong with you?” He tilted his head mockingly, his face twisted into a cruel smile that was so far from his usual smile that River was used to. “You want me to rip you apart and expose you for the fake that you are? I don’t think your delicate sensibilities could take it.”

“Why are you being like this?” River whispered, backing away into the corner of the room. Suddenly Sebastian seemed ten foot tall, towering over them with that same twisted smirk, and fear shot through their body.

“Oh, does the baby not like this?” Sebastian taunted. “Does the baby not like the truth being dished out? Too bad. You need to grow the fuck up and face the truth. Live your truth, right? Isn’t that what you always say? Time to take your own medicine, bitch.” He rolled his shoulders, as if preparing for something strenuous, and glared down at them.

“You want to know the truth? You’re a shitty friend, who uses people and then spits them out.” The words hit River like a million tiny daggers to the heart. “You flit from one sad soul to the next, fixing them up to your standard before you dump them and move onto the next.”

“Th-that’s not true!”

“Oh, isn’t it?” Sebastian snarled down at them. “What about me? You made me feel all special and loved, but then once I got boring, you moved onto Chris and Inari, and left me in the dust. Does that sound like something a best friend does?”

“I’ve never done that!” River protested, as they backed up into the wall.

“You’re such a fucking liar, River.” He scoffed, the sound harsh and cold. “But then again, you’re used to lying. You lie to your parents every time you’re out, you lie to all those boys and girls you fuck, you lie to yourself about everything-“ Another cold laugh escaped him. “There’s nothing about you that’s real.”

Their whole body was shaking. “Wh-why are you saying these things? Why are you b-being like this?” River whimpered, trembling as they sank down the wall to the floor. Shadows rose up on either side of them, swallowing them up.

“Because you have to see the truth. For your own good.” Sebastian’s lips stretched further, that awful smile contorting his face. “You have to see the stupid little queer boy that the rest of the world sees.”

If his words before had been tiny knives, that felt like a poison dipped dagger shoved straight through their heart. River gasped at the impact, tears flowing freely now. “Y-you don’t mean that-“

“Oh, no. I do mean this. You’re nothing more than a confused little gay boy who likes dressing up in a costume every time he wants to step outside his front door, and you know this.”

And another dagger that twisted inside in the most painful way. River’s whole body shook with the sobs that escaped. “Seb….”

He laughed again, a cruel and cold sound. “See what I mean? You dish out the shit to anyone you don’t like, but you can’t take it yourself. Look at yourself.” His lip curled disdainfully as he stared down at them curled up in the corner. “You’re a pathetic, ridiculous, perverted child, who doesn’t understand anything about life.” His foot kicked out, striking River in the side hard enough that it knocked the breath out of them.

Still, it didn’t hurt as much as his words did.

The shadows rose upwards on either side, until the only thing visible was Sebastian’s face. Ungodly large and intimidating, yet not the face River had seen every day since they were five. This was a monster.

“And you think I could ever love someone like you?” Another scoff that twisted the dagger even more. “Please. You’re unlovable. Who could ever love a freak like you? Come to think of it, who would ever actually want to be friends with you?”

Sebastian’s face moved closer, until River could feel his cold breath on their trembling skin. “Because you know we’ve never actually been friends, right? I’ve just been taking pity on you because you’re such a freak of nature. Inari and Chris too. You’re nothing more than a charity case.”

“No…no…” River whimpered, shaking.

“Oh yes.” He snarled. “You’re nothing. You were born a freak, and you’ll never find that love you so desperately crave. Maybe do what you’ve thought about a million times, and actually put that noose around your neck, because who would miss you?” His head tipped backwards as more of that cold laughter escaped him.

“I wouldn’t.”

~~

River jerked up in the bed, sweat coating their trembling skin as tears flooded down their cheeks. Their breathing came in shaky jerks, as they slowly came back to earth. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That had been too real, and too awful, and they weren’t altogether sure they weren’t in their own personal hell still. They cast a fearful glance over at that same corner of the room, in between the overflowing closet and their desk.

“River?”

They gasped at the sudden voice, their heart racing. That voice…. River turned their head to the window, where they met Sebastian’s concerned gaze just across the way. It took no more than that one look for him to shove the window sash the full way up, and clamber across the tree to their own window.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” Sebastian climbed through the window, and dropped down onto the bed beside them.

River jerked back as he came closer, their heart still racing dangerously fast. Their logical brain was telling them that this was their Sebastian, he would never hurt them so callously, but the dream remained. No. Not a dream. A nightmare of the worst kind.

“Riv?” His voice was coloured with confusion.

Their lip trembled, and fresh tears spilled over. “I-I…” Words stuck in their throat, as they started crying again.

Within seconds, they felt his arms around them, pulling them into his lap where he stroked their hair in that way they liked. “Ssh, I got you. I got you, Riv.” He murmured gently. “I’m not going to let anything hurt you. I’ll never let anything hurt you.”


	6. Requiem

The rumble of the bus was louder without the usual press of bodies of the inner city crowds. Out in the suburbs life was quiet. It shocked Pietro on his first trip out here, but he had grown used to it over the past year. He had family out this way now.

That thought almost made him laugh. He got on this line without thinking. He rode on and on despite having spoken to no one. The house could be empty or they might...be busy. He had heard more than a few stories from Kaisa about walking in at inopportune times.

The stop came and Pietro got off.

His pocket buzzed as it had all morning. He’d lost count of the number of calls. They had to be rotating the responsibility. Maybe the personal assistants were in charge of it.

It was the middle of the day. The twins would be at school. At least one of their parents would be at work. Maybe both. He rang the bell. No one could hear a knock in a house this size. Or so he assumed. Growing up in apartments had made him a very poor judge of houses.

“Pietro?”

There stood his answer. River had been home, or they had come home for lunch. Pietro wondered why they looked so concerned. “Did I come at a bad time?”

They looked surprised when he said that. “No, not at all. I was just… Come in.”

He wandered in after them. “Thanks.” It always felt nice being here. He had only dated Kaisa for a short time and yet they continued to open their home to him. Raphael’s parents were the same way. All of them were such kind people. It had taken him years to accept that people like them really existed in the world.

“Pietro?”

He blinked. “Yes?”

River must have asked him something because that look of concern returned. “Would you like some tea?”

“That would be nice. _Grazie_.” He enjoyed their tea even if he drank very little of it in his daily life. It was something nice to have during visits. It made it feel like what a family visit ought to feel like. Fresh tea and cookies and idle chit chat with doting parents who wanted to know how school was going. So idyllic and comforting.

“Mx. River?” he asked.

They smiled at him. “Pietro, I’ve told you. Just call me River.”

They always said that ever since the first time he had tripped over their hyphenated surname on that first night he met them. It was a mouthful; all of them admitted that. “River. May I ask you something?”

“Of course, _chiquito_. Do you want to sit down?”

He walked over and sat on one of the kitchen stools. “Did you go to your father’s funeral?”

They paused fiddling with the kettle and turned around. Their expression had shifted to something different that he dared to think he recognized it. It was comforting in a twisted way. “Kaisa told me that he had died. We talked about our grandparents once, and she said she had never met your father and that none of them considered him a grandfather.”

River took out two mugs and added the tea bags: green tea for themself and fruity strawberry for him. He always asked for the same one every time he came to visit. The silence dragged on long enough that he worried he had offended them, but they spoke before he could apologize. “I made the arrangements. He had no other family left to do it.” They turned and looked at Pietro. “My _papi_ was a homophobic, transphobic piece of shit and he never tried to change. I didn’t owe him anything.” Their face softened. “Why do you ask?”

He knew the why had been coming. It only seemed fair after how straightforward their reply had been. “My mother died yesterday. It was a car accident. She died instantly when another car hit the taxi she was riding in.”

“Oh, Pietro.” They swept forward and pulled him into a hug. That tight, almost painful kind every parent was supposed to know. The sort that made people feel better no matter what had happened; supported when everything was falling apart. “I’m so sorry, _chiquito_.”

He soaked in the warmth as if he were feeling something for the first time since that call. “I wanted your advice--”

The buzzing in his pocket cut him off and ended their hug. He tugged his phone out and saw that same number as a sigh tumbled unbidden from his lips. “It’s my _nonni_. They’ve been calling me all morning about plane tickets.” His voice grew thick. “But I don’t know if I want to go.”

A soft whistling signaled that the water had boiled, and they went to fetch it. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” They glanced over at him as they poured the hot water. “It’s your choice how you want to deal with your grief. If they refuse to listen to you, I could speak to them for you.”

He managed a small smile. “ _Grazie_ , but I haven’t told them anything yet. They assumed I would come, and they’re getting impatient.” His face fell. “Family is very important in Italy. Refusing to attend will make my relatives very upset with me.” Tea appeared in front of him and he took hold of the mug. The warmth felt nice.

They turned on the oven. “I’ll put some cookies in. Have you eaten today?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t felt up to it.”

“I could make you something. Maybe some soup or a sandwich so you have something in your stomach,” they insisted as they fetched out a tray for the cookies.

He shrugged and stared down at the milky liquid in his cup. It was stained pink from the tea bag.

“She never hit me.” The words left his lips and left him light-headed. “She wasn’t abusive. I knew another boy growing up whose his father got violent when he drank. She was nothing like that.

“She got pregnant after she slept with my father at a concert. I don’t know how or why; she always talked about herself as a good Christian woman. But it happened and my grandparents kicked her out when they found out. She wasn’t a teenager, just rich. My grandparents are old money and very traditional, and when they heard who my father was, they were furious.

“She used to tell me all the time when I was growing up how I was lucky that she kept me. How lucky I was that she wasn’t a godless whore willing to throw away a life. She struggled to provide for us. She had never worked before I came along. Just getting food on the table was difficult. I could see that because she always collapsed on the couch when she got home. She took me to church and school. She gave me everything I needed. I never went hungry even if we didn’t have the money for extravagance. She found free things that I could do. That was how I got into music. The church had a free children’s choir I was allowed to be in. She always smiled when they praised me, so I worked hard in that choir so she would smile more.

“Then she remarried when I was nine. He was an old school friend of hers. I don’t think he ever liked me.” He idly swirled the liquid in his cup. “He was just like my grandparents. He didn’t like that I was born out of wedlock, and he hated that my father was a gypsy.” The slur left a sour taste in his mouth. “He never forgave me for that. Many people at my school made it clear that my heritage would follow me for the rest of my life. I listened to him call me everything under the sun and thought that I only needed to ignore it long enough to reach adulthood when I could go and live on my own. But it got worse when my oldest stepsister was born. That was a year after they married. My stepfather was convinced I was going to do something to her, and he kept insisting on it until the day when he caught me opening the window in her room. It was hot and I was ten. I never thought that it would be a bad thing, but he yelled as though I had put a knife in her crib. He told my mother that I had evil in me, and that I’d do something to their baby if they kept me. So they got the paperwork to put me into foster care. I would’ve gone to an orphanage if my father hadn’t heard about it.” He paused to swallow back the lump in his throat. Those days had been the worst of his life. Kids at school said that no one wanted a gypsy; how the government would take him away and kill him.

“My father planned to move with his band to the US at the time. He had been paying for support and he had intended to continue, but he must have been informed about their plans. He came for me and said I would live with him after that. I don’t remember much other than an entire afternoon of shouting and my stepfather threatening to call the police on my father. I thought I’d never see my mother or her family again after that.”

He sighed again. “My father discovered I had a gift for singing and encouraged me to keep pursuing it. I got attention for it because of his fame. His band isn’t mainstream, but he earned a reputation in his specialized circles enough to get a minor tv appearance or two. It was enough for word to reach my mother and grandparents. Once they knew just how gifted I was, they tripped over themselves to have me back in their lives. My father wouldn’t let me go back to live with them, but he agreed to holidays to keep things civil with my mother. It was like that until I graduated, and no judge could force me to do anything with her or her family. They still ask for me every Christmas and Easter. They want me there to show off and parade around like a toy.” He gripped the mug tighter. “That’s what it feels like now. They want me to sing at the funeral. They say I have to honor the memory of my mother and all that she did for me.” He blinked to clear his vision. “My father will tell me to go. He always tells me to be civil, but I can’t bear to go and pretend. They’ll want me to cry and mourn and go on about what a great woman she was for sacrificing years raising me alone. But I’m not sad.” His voice strained as the first of the tears escaped. “I’m glad she’s dead. I was overjoyed the moment I heard them say that she had died and it makes me sick that I can feel something as horrible as that. Like I’m some kind of psychopath…” His words dissolved as he covered his face.

Why had he come here? Why had he told River all about this unprovoked? He wanted to be somewhere away from school with someone who could understand. His friends were good people. They tried, and his father tried, but none of them had lived through that hell. None of them knew. He needed someone who knew or he might be that monster he feared that he was.

Arms surrounded him and guided his head to their shoulder. Strange. He had been terrified of them only a few months ago. He had never imagined he would break down in front of them and be treated so warmly. That embrace felt more loving than anything he had ever experienced with...her. A friend made him feel more loved than his family ever had. He hugged them in return, feeling every bit the foolish, fussing child he’d never been allowed to be.

“I know, _chiquito_.” They rubbed his back gently as they spoke. “I felt relief the day my father died. I was happy that he could never hurt me again, even years after he’d had that power. Those feelings don’t make you a monster. What she did; what her family did was abuse. It doesn’t take someone beating you to be abused. Don’t let them trample on those boundaries if you need them. Don’t let anyone shame you for how you feel. You’re not obligated to do anything other than take care of yourself.”

He cried harder as they gave him that blessed permission that his soul yearned for. “I would give anything to have had a parent like you growing up. I’ve said as much to Kaisa before. We used to fight about it when she was searching for her birth parents. But I never told her why I said that.”

A beat of silence passed before they said, “I would have been proud to be your _papi_. And I’m happy to be here for you now, no matter what comes next. We don’t have to legally share a name for me to take care of you.”

Pietro lost track of how long they sat there like that, but eventually River offered him tissues and he made an effort to clean up. It was easier to eat after the tears and sobs had gotten out. They encouraged him to shut his phone off so that it was silent for the first time in days, and sat with him eating a light lunch and cookies. The tears still came, but they never shamed him for them.

After an hour, they invited him to stay for dinner, and he gladly accepted. He borrowed their phone to get word to Kaisa and Raphael and Selene about where he was and why he wasn’t answering. They had been responsible for a mountain of texts ever since he walked out of a class he shared with Raphael earlier and never returned. He would give his grandparents an answer, but tomorrow morning. Tonight, he wanted to forget about it all in a healthy way. The twins arrived home not long after that and both of them were as happy to see him as he was to see them. He helped with their homework while River cooked, and it all felt so foreign yet ordinary. Though he proved to be a terrible help when it came to their math homework, both of them must have seen how red his eyes were and made no complaints.

Nearer to dinnertime, Sebastian arrived home and it only took a second of that spooky silent communication with his partner for him to understand. He never asked why Pietro was there or what was going on. He only greeted him and joined them all in the kitchen.

Pietro stayed until it was time for River to go to their night shift at their café. They offered to let him stay the night, but he declined. They insisted on driving him back to campus instead. It was much better than a late bus ride. All too soon, they arrived at the curb outside his dorm.

They stopped him with a hand on his arm when he moved to get out. “If you ever need anything at any time, call me. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

He gave them a grateful smile. “Thank you. Tomorrow, I’m going to make it clear that I won’t be going, and then I’ll turn my phone off again until the worst of it blows over. Maybe I’ll spend the day with Raph and some of the other theater people. He’s probably worried about me after I was gone all day.”

“Do you plan to tell people what happened?”

He considered for a moment. “Yes. It’s okay for you to tell the twins and Sebastian. I wanted to come to terms with some of this before hearing condolences from everyone. But I feel more confident now, so I’ll work on telling people.”

“If more comes up, I can help you find someone to talk to. Talking to a therapist can do a world of good, believe me,” they assured him with a smile.

“Thank you. Maybe I’ll look into that next week.” He got out of the car and waved them goodbye as they drove off. This would linger with him for a long time, but it felt good to know someone understood what he felt. It made him think that he could face what was yet to come and come out the other side okay.


	7. Dear Insecurities

_ Deadwind _ played on the TV in the living room where Sebastian and Inari sat, each one occupying their own space on the couch. Their mates had gone out on a date tonight, so they had chosen to watch without the subtitles as they used to do before Chris came along. 

Sebastian had never known how to describe their relationship back then. River had told them it seemed to be queerplatonic, and seeing as that word was better than nothing they had adopted it. Being with someone who seemed more like a soul-bound friend right out of high school had been comforting in some ways and stressful in others; a crazy ride before they stumbled across their other mates. 

But that connection wasn’t what had him staring at a blank page tonight. 

Thoughts had been pricking him all week whenever he had a moment to himself. None of it had any logical standing which he assumed to mean he needed his medication adjusted again. His worst thoughts always came when something was throwing his chemical balances off. It was frustrating as fuck, but at least suffering in silence left him with some dignity. He knew any of his mates would stop to listen to his whining--fuck, they would tell him they welcomed it--but if he voiced every grave thought in his head they would all be sick of him within a day. Unlike strained muscles or runny noses, mental hurts never seemed to heal like they were supposed to. His mates had reason enough to be sick of him without the added strain of his pity party. 

Huh. Speaking of shitty thoughts... 

“Can you think a little quieter over there? I’m trying to watch the show.”. 

He looked up and saw Inari watching him, her phone abandoned on the arm of the couch. “We’re watching one of the few shows that we both consider good and there you are looking like I’m subjecting you to a romantic tragedy.” 

“I’m just pissed at this commission.” Sebastian plucked a pencil from behind his ear. “Not much I can think to do with this Chinese lettering. Copying shit is boring as fuck.” 

“Right. So has that commission been what’s made you distant all week?” She smirked when surprise flickered in his eyes. “Just because the other two idiots haven’t gotten used to you yet, doesn’t mean I can’t read your moods like writing on a wall. What’s eating you?”

His frown deepened, but he knew better than to tell Inari to fuck off. Once she picked up on something, she turned into an emotional bloodhound. Though she could be just as willfully blind to her own feelings, she had made a habit out of dissecting everyone else’s. He tossed his sketchbook onto the coffee table and flopped back against the couch. “It’s nothing. Just pent up shit and some issue with my meds. It’ll all get cleared up at my appointment next week.” 

“You expect me to wait through a second week of your moping?” She leaned her head on her hand as she surveyed him. “You know you can talk to me. I know it can be kind of awkward to open up when it’s one of us who’s the problem, but I promise that I won’t say a word to the other two. It’s better to vent than to be miserable. And if it is an issue, we can find a way to fix it together.”

He studied her for a few moments before he sighed. “I don’t fit the pack.” 

She blinked. “What?” 

“I don’t fit,” he said again, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s what I’ve been thinking. I’m not supposed to make statements for other people.” 

“What brought you to that conclusion?” 

“It’s just how it is. I’m always demanding shit, being needy in one way or another, and none of you really need me here. I make being a fourth wheel awkward.” 

“...How?” 

“Because the three of you make a good, balanced group. You’ve got the dominant thing going all the time, Chris is happy to be submissive to both of you, and River goes between so that you both can get what you need. No excessive energy on either side; no one forcing any of you to put up with shit you don’t want. But throw me in the mix and everything goes to shit. River is basically a better version of me. They can make both of you feel good and they don’t push you for sex. We can’t even kiss and that leaves Chris and River having to deal with me all the time. I make things difficult and none of you should have to put up with it.” 

Silence followed as Inari thought about her answer. “Did these thoughts come up last week when I was fucking around with River? Maybe that one night that Chris brushed you off?” 

He nodded. 

“And you know that these thoughts aren’t what’s really going on. I don’t have to worry about finding your room abandoned tomorrow morning?”

He nodded again.

Inari took a breath. “Well, I suppose that means I can give my breakdown just to try and help you feel better. So let’s start with relationships not being an equation. There’s no ideal top + bottom + switch = balanced. We all have feelings and we all love each other. That includes loving you, quirks and all.”

She got no response from that statement, so she decided to continue. 

“And if it were a math game, you’re forgetting one critical detail: River’s a thirsty bitch. Arguably, Chris and I could keep them happy if we dedicated all of our energy to it, but we’d have no time for each other. As much as I love us all being together, I also enjoy my time alone with Chris or what time I get to have to myself. If we had to put up with River all by ourselves, I’d have considered killing them a week after they moved in. But it doesn’t come to that because we’ve got you to burn off all that excess friskiness that River’s got.”

“Yeah, I’m great at wearing them down,” he mumbled, “Perfect for keeping them happy until they can get what they really want.” 

Inari raised an eyebrow. “Is that what this is about? Bas, you’re not some participation trophy anymore than I’m a coveted prize. You like sex and so do River and Chris, so you all do more together. Just because you got brushed off a few times last week doesn’t make you any less desirable.” 

He sighed, “I know. None of you are the problem. I am. I can’t get my fucking shit together. I...I know it’s stupid.”

“Be honest with me. What’s got you so frustrated with yourself?” 

“I can’t...I don’t know how to be satisfied. I can give you all what you need and that should be enough, but it...it hasn't been. It’s not about Chris not feeling it that one night. I’m always pushing River and Chris, trying to get what they don’t want to give. It...it never happens that other way around. Because I’m a needy piece of shit.”

It clicked when she heard that. “Oh. So omega troubles.”

That got a glare shot at her. “Not everything is about my fucking dynamic.”

She shook her head. “Listen. Your worst insecurities always come from you trying to hide any part of yourself you think resembles the omega stereotypes because, even with all three of us telling you what you want is just you being you, you still internalize all that toxic shit about what the different dynamics are.” She gave him a slight smile. “Stop giving me that look. You know I’m right. You’re calling yourself a needy bitch because you want to feel desired by your mates. And why? Because that’s an omega stereotype, so you don’t want anything to do with it. But wanting to be desired is universal, dummy. You don’t think River or Chris or me would get pissy if we were suddenly getting ignored?”

“But I wasn’t being ignored last week. I…” His eyes moved to the floor. “I just wasn’t the center of attention.”

“You’re right, but not in the way that you think. This isn’t about you wanting attention. It’s about you not realising how things have changed now that River is living here. You’ve got this mental image of yourself as being all alpha which seems to have erased that fact that River likes to be both submissive and dominant. They’ve been doing as much pursuing as you have these past few weeks; you just failed to notice. It wasn’t until last week when River got distracted playing that game with me that you noticed because that attention wasn’t there anymore. Everything that happened after was just you being aware of that desire without seeing that it had been fulfilled until that moment. Now you’re being stubborn because admitting that’s what’s going on means that you’re admitting it’s normal for you to feel like that and that it’s not a bad thing.”

Inari could be fucking terrifying when she became analytical. Sebastian folded his arms. “That’s..one way to interpret it.” 

“Come here, sourpuss.” She pulled him into a hug, laughing softly. “I should have noticed something was up with you sooner. I’ve gotten lazy since River showed up. They’re so enthusiastic about taking care of you and Chris, I suppose I thought I was doing them a favour letting them go at it. But it’s pretty shitty for the head of the pack to sit on her ass just because I have a co-alpha now.” 

“There’s not much to do about this,” Sebastian pointed out.

“An extra cuddle or two might have kept you from getting all grumbly. Or we could have had this talk sooner. Maybe River wasn’t the only one distracted last week. I would have done it regardless, and I’d do it again, but next time I’ll have to pay better attention to you and Chris. Be sure you’re both chill. Who knows. Maybe keeping River on pins and needles all week is what fucked with your head. Hormones and all that.” 

He relaxed in her arms and laid his head on her shoulder. “It’s not anyone’s fault. That’s why I didn’t want to bother anyone with this.” 

“Maybe so, but you could still talk to one of us. If we know what’s going on in your head, we can all come up with something to help you feel better. And, no, that doesn’t mean you’re needy or we wouldn’t enjoy doing it. We all help out on days when River’s dysphoria gets bad and none of us accuse them of being needy, right? Your needs are just as important.” They sat like that for a few minutes before Inari smiled again. “Say I might know a game that we could play. Something to get your mind off your gloom.”

Sebastian frowned. “What did you have in mind?” 

\--

Midnight had come and gone before the front door opened and Inari heard River call softly, “We’re home.” 

“In the living room,” Inari answered quietly, her fingers continuing to run through Sebastian’s hair. It was so much softer since River convinced him to change his shampoo. He lay asleep with his head on her lap, completely unfazed by the talking. It would take a bomb going off by his head to wake him up now. 

River appeared mere moments after they heard her, a bright smile on their face and a pair of sparkling heels in their hand to match the little black dress they had worn out. “How was your night?” Inari asked, offering her cheek to indicate that she was fine with some affection tonight. 

It never took more than a second for River to jump on these chances. They placed a kiss there as they gave her a quick hug. “It was fantastic. We found this adorable food truck with the yummiest rolled ice cream ever. We need to go there together some time.” Their smile turned sappy when they noticed Sebastian and they moved to perch on the couch beside him. “Busy night?” They asked as they leaned down and kissed his forehead. 

“He looked tired, so I snuck a sleeping pill into some coffee,” she explained. “We played a game daring each other to eat or drink whatever random shit the other threw together in the kitchen, so it was pretty easy to pull off.”

Chris stumbled into the room, looking significantly more tired in his rumple band shirt. “Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, leaning down to kiss her cheek as River had. 

She laughed and caught him in her personal brand of hugging which always seemed to be one step away from a headlock. “Did four hours in a dark room tucker you out,  _ rakas _ ?”

As expected, Chris leaned into the affection readily. “Nah. Too many early mornings.”

“It feels like bedtime. I would’ve gone sooner, but I figured I ought to stay up since your usual late night caller was passed out cold.” She released Chris from her grasp. “Riv, you mind taking Seb so I can take care of these dishes?” 

River nodded immediately and scooped him up off the couch, their smile brightening when he snuggled against their chest. “I’ll come help after I put him to bed.”

“Don’t bother.” She got up and stretched her back. “You look just as dead as Chris even if you won’t admit to it. It’ll take me like a minute to finish up and then I’ll join you all. You’ll need that time and more to tackle your hour-long bedtime routine.” 

They stuck their tongue out and her, but headed off without another argument.

“I can hel--” A yawn cut Chris off mid-offer. 

She couldn’t help but smile as she gave him a chaste peck on the lips. “Go get in bed. I’ll be there before you know it.” 

“But--” 

She shushed him with a finger to his lips and pushed him off toward the bedroom. A sense of satisfaction came over her as she watched him walk off. Knowing that her little family was all home and safe always made her alpha pleased. She gathered up her dishes and headed for the kitchen, ready to finish her day with a good sleep surrounded by the people who mattered to her most. 


End file.
